


Penance to Pay

by rawkfemme



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, tw: Funeral, tw: child death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 03:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12718866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawkfemme/pseuds/rawkfemme
Summary: Kathryn's feeling of guilt knows no end.





	Penance to Pay

It feels like a penance. To sit quietly in the back row. To feel her living lungs fill and empty over and over. To watch with brimming eyes the unabashed sorrow of those around her. She’s an interloper. Not family, not friend. More to blame for the aching yaw of grief than one may think. So, she sits.

She picks at an invisible piece of lint on her pant leg. Anything to prevent meeting the eyes of a father in mourning. They’ve only been home a few months but that was enough time for the lower-deck ensign to lose the child he had just begun to know. Conceived seven years ago in a loving farewell. Lost so recently to tragedy. That young boy who had spent all the months of his life mourning and missing a father whom he would only briefly know.

She feels her cheeks burn and then dampen with fallen tears. Fat drops fall to her lap and soak through the thick standard issue fabric. She watches the material darken, and then the darkness spreads. Soon, it’s hard to fill her lungs. It’s a familiar feeling, like having shovels of earth fall heavy on your chest as your lie staring at the sky.

How dare she? How dare she have the gall to begin again with a near-perfect life when so many she served with won’t receive that privilege? How dare she find love and peace when a decision she made to put strangers over her own cost a good man the chance to know his son? How dare she attain satisfaction and fulfillment when she caused so many sons and daughters to grow without their parents? How dare she?

With shuddering breath, she lifts her head and hopes that enough time has passed that she can make a quiet escape. She’s paid her respects and performed her penance. In silent benediction she casts her clouded eyes to the front of the room and the tiny casket bathed in rosey light. Flowers and cherished playthings flank the dais. A grieving mother clutches a plush toy, trying to draw strength from the memory it carries. Her husband, blue-shouldered and broad, grips the badge that should be over his heart; the points of the delta digging pits into his palm. She knows this action well. The pain you can control drowns out that which you can’t.

She feels the form next to her rise and is relieved to have somewhere else to look before they catch sight of her, puffy-eyed and guilt-ridden. His strong arm wraps around her waist and she can feel him nod a silent ‘good-bye’ towards the front of the room. They leave and step into the chilled evening air. Gentle breezes cause the wetness on her cheeks to dry and her skin to tighten uncomfortably. She rests her head on his shoulder as they walk away. Away from the disconsolate grief of parents who have lost their child. Away to their new home together. Away to the prestige of her new title. Away to a life that she isn’t yet convinced that she deserves.

The darkness always has a way of creeping in and choking out the light, and she relies on his strength when she has no more of her own. He’s brought her back to herself before, but she can’t let that be his role forever. She feels him pull her tight against him and press a silent kiss to her hair. The distance that they’ve traveled together is vast and as they walk, each step brings them closer to their new beginning. As the evening gathers, the street lamps light their way, quashing the darkness behind. The light is an invocation, begging her to turn towards its warmth. She’s always struggled with the darkness, and a part of her knows it will always be with her, but she needs so much to be more than that. She needs to be more than herself. For him. For them. For her.


End file.
